relationships

The cool kids like to say, “You do you” as a way of showing they’re not judging and we’re all free to be… you and me.

Yet, have you ever noticed that when you actually do yourself, some people will hurry to tell you just how wrong you are?

You: I really like lime LaCroix water.

Somebody: You know that stuff is horrible. It’ll strip the enamel off your teeth. You should just drink regular water.

You: (blink, blink)

***

You: I think Taylor Swift is great.

Somebody: Seriously? She can only sing four notes and she should have never covered Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September”. Who does she think she is?

You: (blink, blink, blink)

***

You: I love Facebook.

Somebody: First of all, they steal your data. Second of all, who wants to know what you had for lunch. And third of all, do you not have a life?

You: (blinkety, blink, blink)

***

So, “You do you” becomes “You do what I say because I’m right and you’re wrong”.

Kinda icky, huh?

The Somebodies who would criticize your Being You-ness are investing not in the relationship but more in their own feeling of being right. They seek to validate their own viewpoints or to emphasize their own importance.

Don’t be that person.

When you make the space for someone to fully do themselves, you’re giving them a great gift – the gift of real acceptance. Because whatever they’re doing is ok by you.

But, then, when someone’s Being Them-ness is full of hate, or violence, or unkindness, what do you do? Do you suck it up and let them do them?

In a way, you do. But not without honestly saying your piece, such as, “I completely disagree with you” or “That is not my experience at all”.

You can firmly and without reservations do yourself and voice your perspective in the face of hate speech. In fact, you have a responsibility to do so.

When it’s not a high-stakes conversation, it pays to get curious. You might try something like this:

You ask why they like lime LaCroix. Their answer might be, “Because I’m working on my sobriety and I’m substituting a couple of glasses of LaCroix in the evening for a fifth of vodka.”

You ask why they like Taylor Swift. Their answer might be, “Because my mom and her mom are first cousins.”

You ask why they like Facebook. Their answer might be, “Because my aunt is homebound and it’s a good way for us to stay connected.”

All perfectly fine reasons, don’t you think?

They’re doing them. Which is very cool.

And now you know a little bit more about them, and your relationship benefits.

I know what I’m suggesting here is hard. Listening and not correcting is really tough for us human beings. And as a human being, I struggle with this – boy, do I struggle with this.

I’m trying to do it differently, though, by holding onto the idea that when you do you at your very best and I build you up rather than tear you down, we create enough space for me to be me at my very best, too.

Funny how everything’s coming together for me to be even more reflective this March.

In 1960, when I was born, the world was a much different place. Global population was about a third the size it is today, and it felt like there was plenty of open space here and out in the galaxy. We were a year away from a visit to space – the Soviet launch of Yuri Gagarin into Earth’s orbit followed closely by US astronaut Alan Shepard, in a demonstration of the competitiveness of the Cold War.

How surprised would the world have been in 1960 to learn that the Soviet Union would crumble and capitalism would come to Communist nations?

When I was born, the U.S. had segregation – Dr. King had yet to march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge, and even though Brown vs. Board had been settled, few schools had been desegregated.

Could we even have fathomed the relative ordinariness of seeing people of color as CEOs, Presidents, politicians, doctors, lawyers and professors not only in the US, but around the world?

Women, in my childhood, had a slim choice of jobs if they wanted to work: nurse, teacher, secretary, waitress, domestic help or bookkeeper. Even the brightest women faced a thick, impenetrable glass ceiling.

Small Michele might not have believed what’s possible today. Had anyone said that she would grow up to work with executives around the world who want to get better at their jobs, and that she’d do it from home, most often wearing yoga pants and a fleece pullover, while making a very good living, Wee Michele probably would have asked:

“What’s yoga?”

But some things today are exactly the same as they were when I was born. And these are things I’m exceptionally glad for:

People still fall in love.

Folks still have best friends.

Most of us offer help when we see someone in trouble.

Children smile and the world is all right.

We cheer for the underdog and applaud our heroes.

We laugh at each other’s jokes.

Songs are sung.

Meals are shared.

Lips are kissed.

Yes, we humans still see possibilities.

We still make things happen.

We still believe.

And after all these years, and all that change, that’s the world I believe you and I really want.

Let’s say there’s a sales guy, working in a sales function in a sales-driven organization.

His company was acquired by a group of investors who are systematically changing the way business is being done. They have metrics for everything and statistics drive every decision.

Our sales guy has been the top producer for many years. He has deep customer relationships and generates significant repeat business.

But you can’t benchmark relationships, so the powers that be decide he must have lucked into a rich sales territory and proceed to carve it up to spread the wealth. They parcel his clients out to the rest of the sales team, leaving our sales guy with a severely diminished book.

Oh, and a mandate to make 35 calls each day.

Off the record, his boss says that it doesn’t matter if the calls are to qualified prospects or not – all the bean counters want to know is that the calls are being made because they have forms to be filled out.

Six months go by.

Sales are way off.

Repeat business is non-existent.

And our sales guy has found another job.

Because he knows that his strongest suit – his true superpower – is the ability to create relationships, and the bean counters who value quantity over quality simply don’t get it.

He knows that he can make one call and generate as much business in fifteen minutes as two other guys could get in a week. How? Because his clients know him, like him and have years of experience working with him – they trust him.

Some of his customers like him better than they like his product – what he sells is less important than how he sells to them. Which is why the guy is going to be successful wherever he goes.

If I were in charge of a sales organization, I’d hire a hundred people with the ability to generate referral business rather than hire a thousand robo-callers.

Because quality always wins out over quantity.

But maybe that’s just me.

Today it seems that so many organizations want their people to be as uniform and interchangeable as widgets.

As if one sales guy is absolutely equal to another sales guy.

That one teacher is as good as any other teacher.

That a 60-year-old surgeon who’s done a thousand procedures is absolutely equivalent to a 30-year-old surgeon who’s so desperate for business that she’s willing to deeply discount her fee to get people in the door.

I don’t think so.

Sure, it’s comforting to think that if you check off all the boxes then you’re less likely to fail. Does our health plan provide access to a surgeon? Check – yes. The question so few ask: Is that surgeon any good?

Quantity is: We have a 20-person sales team making 35 cold calls every day. Quality is: Are they talking to the right people? Are they taking time to build relationships? To build trust?

There’s not a box to check next to those quality questions because they’re rarely being asked.

It’s likely that you have quantity/quality decisions to make every day in your own life. And all I ask is that you keep a few things in mind:

It’s not the number of brownies you make that’s important, especially if they taste awful. Make good, quality brownies and let that be enough.

It’s not the number of bills you have in your wallet, especially if they are all ones. If you want to sit down, it’s better to have five $100 bills in your back pocket than 250 singles.

It’s not important that you have a whole lot of friends, especially if you have no one to call for help in the middle of the night.

When it comes down to it, real success comes from the things that cannot be quantified – connection, relationship, kindness, appreciation, trust.

I don’t know about you, but I want more of those quality things in my life and work, and I’m consciously working on them every day.

When I’m not working directly with clients, I spend a lot of time connecting dots.

Honestly, I’m reading all the time.

Like this one: Mother May I? The author raises a fascinating question – are your work relationships adult-adult, or parent-child? I can see this one question immediately changing your approach.

I was asked if I had written anything about mentoring, and I found this: Mentoring Mojo, which was apt and timely since it’s nearly five years since the loss of my great mentor. I learned so very much from her.

Sometimes the only thing that needs be said is the very hardest thing to say.

But we don’t want to say it.

I mean, we do but we don’t. You know?

We don’t say the very hardest thing because we don’t want to rock the boat.

Or upset anyone.

Or be unkind.

But most of all, we don’t want to be wrong.

[Because being wrong makes us question so many of our assumptions – a really unsettling and icky opening-a-can-of-worms feeling.]

We don’t say the big thing because maybe we’ve mis-interpreted the situation or don’t have all the facts.

We could be wrong because we really don’t know what’s going on with the other person, and if we ask we’re afraid we’ll hear something we’re not ready or able to hear.

Or we might feel too small to say something so big.

So we don’t say anything.

Even the thing that needs to be said most. The thing that will give us clarity, and relief – and maybe rouse our own compassion for the other person.

That’s the tricky part – feeling compassion for someone we feel just doesn’t get it.

So, we bite our tongue, maybe roll our eyes behind their back, talk to our best friend at length. Maybe talk with several friends, come to think of it.

And we desperately seek evidence to prove – PROVE – that we are… right.

Funny, that, isn’t it? We’d rather be right than be in relationship.

Because “right” means that we are a little… what? Smarter? More insightful? Slightly superior? Justified in seeing the world the way we want to see it?

[Oh, hello, ego. I see you’ve raised your little head again.]

We want deep connection and collaboration, but if we can’t say what needs to be said we’re keeping ourselves from the very thing we want the most.

So.

The next time you’re compelled to ask “What in the world could he be thinking?” and in that split-second before you jump to conclusions – do one simple thing.

Ask him. Kindly. Respectfully. Openly.

Put aside your ego’s need to be right. Just ask, “What are you thinking?”

Listen, reflect, then say what you’re thinking. Even if it’s the hardest thing in the world to do.

Always do the thing which will move you toward deeper, more real connection with yourself – and with others.

As a practice – whether you’re connecting at home or at the office -shifting toward real connection means that not only will you feel more yourself and happier, but you’ll find that there are fewer and fewer hard things to be said.

Because you don’t need to be “right” when you see the other person fully. And allow yourself to be seen, too.

If you really want to talk with someone – notice I said “with someone” rather than “at someone” – there’s one thing you can stop doing.

You can stop forming your question so you get the answer you seek.

Such as:

“Feeling OK?”

This question immediately telegraphs the response you’re expecting to hear – or maybe even the only acceptable one you’ll tolerate hearing.

This kind of question is not really about the other person.

It’s all about you and your needs.

In essence, by asking this way, you’re saying, “Please tell me you’re feeling OK because I am worried stiff/don’t care to get involved with your nonsense/moving on to the next person I make eye contact with.”

And when you telegraph precisely what you want to hear, it’s like you don’t really care that much about what’s real. You don’t really care that much about who I am and what I’m experiencing. So guess what I do? I take the path of least resistance and simply say, “Yes.”

Indeed, I lie because it’s easy and it’s what you want to hear.

If you want to build a relationship, you sure haven’t made one step toward doing so with a question like this, have you?

The question’s kid sister is:

“Have a good day at school today, sweetie?”

Notice how there’s not much room to say, “No, mom. No, I did not. It was a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.”

It’s a lot easier to say, “Yep” and go up to your room and text your real feelings to your friends who will at least listen.

At work, this type of phraseology often comes from micro-managers who pepper their people with a series of questions like:

“I hope you talked with Sarah and checked with IT, marketing and legal before you finalized the spreadsheet.”

Way to show a ton of confidence in your people there, boss. Your questions suggest everyone is untrustworthy, and no one has the ability to figure out what needs to be done. Except you, of course.

[Awesome management style, btw. Bet your people love you.]

It’s super easy to fall into the trap of talking this way. I mean, you hear it everywhere you go.

But that doesn’t mean it’s right. Or that it works, does it?

If you really want to create a connection with people instead of tear one down, simply shift the way you talk.

Instead of telling them what you want to hear, ask them what they’d like to say.

Say, “How was your day?

Say, “How are you feeling?”

Say, “What’s your homework like tonight?”

Because when you talk like that, you not only hear the other person – but you also see them.

You respect them.

Which is how every relationship get stronger, better, deeper and richer.

Some weeks a theme starts to appear among the people I’m working with. And when I become aware that different people all around the world are wrestling with the same thing, I sit up and take notice.

They don’t know it – they don’t even know each other – but they have same kind of struggle. They use the same words to describe the places they’re in. The lament the same energy lost and wasted. The share the same weariness, and worry.

So it was this week that the common topic was forgiveness.

“Should I have forgiven for what was done?” California asked. Atlanta wanted to know, “Can I be forgiven for what I did?” New England asked, “Is repair possible?” From Texas: “Is all hope lost?”

I’m guessing, then, that forgiveness is probably on your mind, too. So I thought I would give you something I wrote a few years ago for National Poetry Month – in the hope that it will help:

I FORGIVE

I forgive.

I forgive myself. I said stupid things, did stupid things.

More than once. [Much more than once.]

I did not understand then. I understand now.

I understand the why. I understand the how.

And I understand who I need to be today.

Right now.

Here.

With you.

I forgive you for all of your errors. Even if they caused me pain.

[The suffering was my choice.]

Oh, you had demons.

And demons had you.

Maybe still do.

I honor the lessons I’ve learned.

So I forgive you. And I can even thank you.

[Who would have ever thought that?]

I forgive us, for all the times we think we can heal the whole big planet.

Without first looking to heal ourselves.

I forgive us for our collective fascination with the unimportant [news that isn’t news, manufactured drama, featureless fads].

How we let them control our emotions, building a mounting tsunami of anxiety.

I forgive us for allowing ourselves to be swept away.

[And failing to keep an eye on what’s really important.]

[Which is love.]

Oh, it’s forgiveness we need. The whole big planet of us.

We know how.

And we know who.

[It’s us. To each other. For each other.]

Let’s not make the past hurts present.

Let’s not let them drive our days.

Let’s acknowledge the pain (it’s real) and allow ourselves the grace to be better (now).

It’s that last bit that makes most of us grind our teeth. Having a staff person tell you what’s wrong with the roll-out may feel like a challenge to your expertise or planning skills or authority, but unless you’re Steve Jobs you might want to listen in case the kid has a point. Could save you some time and money. And maybe even guarantee the success you’re aiming for.

Plus, that kid could end up being the next Steve Jobs – wouldn’t it be cool to have been his mentor?

Even if the listening you’re doing is with your child who is telling you something you’d rather not hear – and, trust me, if you have a teenager this happens frequently – separating what is being said from your own ego is key to building a stronger relationship.

Which is the point, right?

In this fast-paced, go-go-go, multi-media, multi-input, multi-stimulus world, taking time out of time to really listen can shift a relationship from superficial to rich. And results from ho-hum to amazing.

Real, connected listening builds respect, which – in my opinion – we could use a lot more of in this world of ours.